Silver Lining
by Vegandi
Summary: "My eyes never leave yours, both of us ignore the destruction around us; burning homes, screams of pain, the stench of death. All that exists are you and me. That’s how it always was."


Silver Lining  
  
August 17 2002  
  
This was written in an hour or so. It's sort of chopping, I think, but I wanted it that way. My first Harry Potter fic, my first slash fic...am I setting myself up or what? I wrote this because I really believe Draco would become a Death Eater, regardless of who he fell in love with.  
  
Reading is good, reviewing is gold.  
  
  
  
*three and a half years ago, fall, seventh year*  
  
"What the hell do you want, Potter?"  
  
"I heard you," Harry said, indicating the now-empty fire place where Lucius Malfoy's head had been and Draco. Draco's eyes narrowed as he considered the smaller boy.  
  
"Well that simply gives me another reason to kill you."  
  
"When you become a Death Eater?"  
  
"The entire school is under the illusion that I already am. Why aren't you?"  
  
"Because I thought you were smarter than that. It seems I gave you too much credit." Harry's features suddenly softened. "You have a choice."  
  
"I don't," Draco said, turning to face the fire place. "If you've come here, prepared to give me a lovely lecture on Why I Should Join Harry Potter and His Gang of Do-gooders, your time was wasted."  
  
"I didn't come for that," Harry said, suddenly very, very close. Draco turned around, almost knocking Harry over in the process.  
  
"Then what?" Harry bit his lower lip, his eyes unwavering. Then he leaned forward, and kissed Draco. Draco shoved him back, narrowed his eyes, and then stepped forward, pressing his body against Harry's as he initiated another kiss.  
  
"You don't have to be on my side, Malfoy," Harry said softly, after Draco had released him. "But I don't want you to be on *his* side. Because if you are, one of us will die at the other's hands, and as much as I don't want that person to be me, I will not kill you either."  
  
*present--draco pov*  
  
"What are you waiting for, Potter? An invitation?" I hate you. I want to burn you, hurt you, suck you, fuck you, cut you, kill you. You couldn't leave it. You just *had* to go and make something of it. Idiot. Make your move.  
  
"I'm not going to kill you, Malfoy." You are stubborn, more-so than me, I think. "You know that. I won't." God dammit, Potter, just *do* it. At least raise your fucking wand.  
  
"Fuck you, Potter." Your eyes narrow, slashes of emerald surrounded by ebony lashes. My eyes never leave yours, both of us ignore the destruction around us; burning homes, screams of pain, the stench of death. All that exists are you and me. That's how it always was.  
  
We were in a world of our own, or rather, a world of *your* making. You loved to sugar coat things, always thinking about that damn silver lining. Well here is proof, Potter, that there never was a silver lining for us; fuck, there never *was* an 'us'.  
  
"Do what you came to do!" I shout at you, enraged by your lack of response. You smirk, crossing your arms over your chest, and remain irritatingly silent.  
  
*three years ago, spring, seventh year*  
  
"What are you planning to do, after graduation?" Harry asked, tracing lazy paths over Draco's bare chest.  
  
"Let's not go there," he answered, shifting so that he was half on top of Harry.  
  
"I think I've a right to know," Harry said stubbornly.  
  
"But you don't want to." Draco opened his mouth against Harry's neck, suckling at Harry's pulse.  
  
"You have a choice," Harry said quietly, sounding slightly defeated. Draco sighed, resting his head against Harry's chest.  
  
"You're not going to let this go, are you?" He glanced up, and saw Harry shake his head. Draco moved slowly, but determinedly. He pushed himself off of and away from Harry and began dressing himself.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"My father sent for me. I'm to return home this morning." Harry's eyes darted to the old clock on the nightstand. Sure enough, it was morning. Harry licked his lips; his mouth felt very dry.  
  
"When will you be back?"  
  
"Oh, honestly Potter, can't you shag someone else for two days?" Harry, who was always unable to hide his emotions, looked hurt. "Harry," Draco stated quietly, hand on the door.  
  
"You *do* have a choice, Draco. You don't have to be my enemy."  
  
"There will never be a place for us, not in this world." And with that, Draco left.  
  
*present--harry's pov*  
  
I may have started the fire, Malfoy, but you kept it burning. I may have kissed you that first time in hopes of changing your loyalties, but you made it into something more. The way you touched me, the way you whispered my name--my *given* name--the way you made me feel, how could you expect me *not* to fall in love with you?  
  
And now, you stand across from me, lightning flashing in the skies, which are already dark, though I am sure it is still morning. Your wand is raised, you want to duel. And I refuse. I told you I would.  
  
"Drop your wand, Malfoy."  
  
"Potter, I am not telling you again. Get out your fucking wand and fight me!" You are losing your composure. So unlike you.  
  
*three years ago, spring, seventh year*  
  
"Welcome back," Harry said, sitting cross-legged on top of his bed.  
  
"I was hoping for more of an...energetic home-coming," Draco drawled, arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the wall.  
  
"You seemed tired today in the Great Hall. Wouldn't want to exhaust you."  
  
"What is it now?" Draco asked lazily.  
  
"Take off your robe," Harry stated.  
  
"No." Harry's eyes narrowed, and he stormed over to Draco.  
  
"How do you expect me to accomplish anything when you keep your clothes *on*?"  
  
"I don't want you to accomplish anything. This has ended."  
  
"This?" Harry asked. His emerald eyes had flashed dangerously as soon as Draco had entered the room, and now Draco swore he could feel the flames within them burning his skin.  
  
"You. Me. Shagging. No more." Harry studied Draco for a moment before lunging for him. After a brief scuffle, in which Draco cursed more times than deemed decent, Harry had Draco pinned to the floor facedown, his left arm twisted behind his back. Harry shoved Draco's sleeve up, and stared.  
  
Grinning back at him, mocking him, was a black skull, a poison-green snake slithering out of its mouth. Harry dropped Draco's arm and stood up, head bowed.  
  
"Surprised?" Draco asked scathingly, brushing himself off.  
  
"Hardly. You *are* Draco Malfoy, after all."  
  
*present*  
  
The two men, both twenty, both far too young to be in the position they were in, gazed icily at each other, only one holding a wand. Golden energy crackled around the wand tip, and the owner whispered a spell.  
  
"Accio Ron Weasley." A tall, bloodied red-head flew into Draco's arms. Draco dropped him, wand pointed at the taller man. "Make a choice, Potter," he shouted over the wind. Harry, he could tell, was torn. "Either he dies, or one of us dies." Finally, after an eternity of indecision, Harry reached into his cloak. "Avada Kedavra," Draco said quietly. Bright green energy bolted towards Harry, who seemed to simply sigh. And then he was no more.  
  
Draco was shaking; he felt shattered, empty, dead. *Potter was supposed to block it...* he repeated, over and over inside his head. He fell to his knees, gazing stupidly at the wand in his hand, and at the place Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, once stood.  
  
"Bastard." Draco looked to his side, where Ron stood, wand poised in his hand. "He loved you. He fucking loved you and he told us, in the end, you'd do what was right. He believed that shit. I didn't." Ron uttered the Killing Curse, and Draco Malfoy accepted his fate. Eerie green light engulfed him, and then he was gone.  
  
***  
  
"I was just wondering, Potter, why the hell you didn't block my attack?" Draco asked, running his hands up and down Harry's smooth sides. Harry sighed contentedly before answering.  
  
"I didn't want to live without you. If I had killed you, I'd still be alive."  
  
"You're a sentimental idiot." Draco shuddered as Harry began kissing a path down his torso.  
  
"Maybe. But you said we never had a chance during that time. I thought we ought to get a second chance elsewhere."  
  
"How could you be so sure Weasley would defeat Voldemort?" Draco asked.  
  
"I just knew he could do it. I wouldn't have let things fall the way they did if I didn't think Voldemort's reign of terror would end." Harry shifted, pressing into Draco. Draco moaned.  
  
"You know," he gasped as Harry entered him, "this position crushes my wings."  
  
"Ever wanted to know how it felt to make love in the air?" And with that, Harry beat his snowy white wings and lifted the two lovers into the silver- lined sky, where they could be together always. 


End file.
